Failed Perfection
by the.persistence.of.memory
Summary: Hermione knew that no one liked her. Well, the teachers did, but that was hardly comforting. What was comforting was her new Head Girl Badge. If only she knew who the Head Boy was... DMHG
1. Prologue

**A/N There is a reason that this is called** ** _fan_** **fiction, not fiction. I feel no need to remind you of that every chapter. This is the prologue, so it is much shorter. I would love to receive corrections and advice.**

Despite what her parents thought, Hermione did actually enjoy being at Hogwarts. It wasn't as though she had _no_ friends (her owl counted, didn't it?) and plus, the teachers liked her. She was good at the work, and this was her last year anyway. So what if everyone thought she was a bossy now-it-all! So what if she was ignored by almost everyone. She was a strong, smart, independent witch. Those comments didn't bother her!

Okay. That was a lie. They _did_ bother her. And the amount of times she felt like a 'strong, smart, independent witch'? Well, she could count them on one hand.

She had kind of hoped that after all she had done to help Harry and Ron win the war, she might have gotten _some_ credit. But it seemed that that was too much to ask for. It was all about the Golden Duo with no mention of the girl who actually did all the work. It wasn't like she had been expecting recognition. The boys had told her again and again that they weren't friends, that they just needed her brains. She had managed fool herself for years that they actually did care about her. But she couldn't keep up her delusions any longer.

At least she had a Head Girl Badge to comfort her.

And she _did_ enjoy her classes. Most of the time.

Anyway, she was Hermione Jean Granger and she would be fine.


	2. Chapter One

**A/N I was reluctant to mention in the prologue that this is my first published story on this website for the simple reason that, over my many years of reading fanfiction I am at my most sceptical when the author announces that they haven't done this before. As always, I am pedantic about grammar, spelling and OOC characters on everybody else's fanfiction so please be pedantic on mine.**

 **Onwards and upwards…**

The train ride was always bad. She tried to get there early to get a compartment. It was better to see people move on when they saw it was _Hermione_ in there than to see them tell _her_ to move on when she tried to join them in their compartment.

It gave her more reading time, anyway. That was a plus, wasn't it?

She was early again, luckily. She managed to get one at the back of the train, near the bathrooms. That way, she didn't have to walk past people and watch them hold their nose, or snort, or whisper to their friends (depending on how old they were) whenever she walked past. That was why she was early to class too.

She thought back to last year, where she didn't need to be so cautious all the time. For the most part, the Golden Duo had provided some semblance of a barrier from the students, and when the had decided to traipse around the countryside looking for things that didn't actually end the war they had taken her with them.

The time spent with the two of them on the 'Horcrux Hunt' - mostly putting up wards and hiding in the tent once they inevitably started arguing - had been frustrating for Hermione because of its lack of usefulness, but at least it gave her an Gryffindorian excuse to leave the castle.

She pulled out her battered copy of _Pride and Prejudice_ but didn't get very far before she heard the door slide open. Hermione waited for the inevitable sigh of disgust when whomever it was realised that they didn't want to sit in this compartment. To her surprise, it never came.

She dragged her eyes up from her book to see a stormy-eyed, thin-lipped Draco Malfoy glaring at her as if she was a dead cockroach on the floor. This was a more realistic comparison than Hermione believed (given that it was the best she could come up with on short notice; she liked to insult people back in her head) because that was the precise expression he had had just that morning when a dead - but amazingly still squirming –cockroach oozed itself all over his best shirt. However, Hermione didn't know this.

Apparently he had asked her a question because he was looking at her as though he was thoroughly exasperated with her. This didn't bother Hermione as much as it used to – not _as_ much, but still bothersome – because she got this look rather a lot.

But he was still looking at her with one perfectly manicured and irritated eyebrow raised, and she felt compelled to ask him to repeat what he had said, and hopefully be able to ignore the sour look he would predictably have. She did so, and he did so, and then he repeated himself: "I _asked_ you, you self-absorbed, insufferable mudblood, if you could come to the Prefects meeting because apparently some idiot made you Head Girl."

Hermione looked at him in confusion. "But why are _you_ telling me this?"

"You mean you didn't _know_? The same idiot made _me_ Head Boy!" He laughed. "Our very own teacher's pet, mudblood know-it-all actually doesn't _know_ something? That's priceless!"

Hermione got up silently and left behind the doubled-up Malfoy to go to the other end of the train for the meeting.

"Wait-wait up Granger!" he shouted amid snorts of laughter. "You actually didn't know I was Head Boy? You're funnier than I thought you'd be. Tell me something else about your pathetic existence so I can laugh about that too!"

Hermione kept walking, wrapping her arms tightly around _Pride and Prejudice,_ which for some reason she hadn't put down.

His laughter slowly dying down, Malfoy pushed past her – still managing not to touch her, a feat that he had managed to perfect - grumbling about her going too slow.

Upon seeing her questioning look at him going the same way as her, he smirked.

"Yes, Granger. I've been made Head Boy. Didn't you know? Wait a second-" he paused, his face lighting up as if he had just realised the cure for cancer – though in all honesty he probably wouldn't be excited about that after all, cancer was purely a muggle thing considering healers had found a cure years ago – "I've thought of a game! It's called: 'What else doesn't the know-it-all know?' Rather a lot, it turns out," he said mockingly, finally continuing his way down the train and into the larger compartment used for the prefects before they made their rounds.

To Hermione's surprise, _Professor_ _McGonagall_ was there. She also happened to be one of the two people in the entire castle who truly liked Hermione Granger, the other one being Luna Lovegood, who, being socially unacceptable as well, got along well with Hermione the few times they saw each other. However, taking into account that, for whatever reason, Hermione had been sorted into _Gryffindor_ (since when was she brave? Something that, clearly, she and the rest of Hogwarts all wondered), that Luna was in sixth year, not seventh, and that she was also frequently taken out of school for Nargle Hunts and other such strange things, the amount of times that they actually saw each other were unsurprisingly infrequent.

At the start of her first year, her lack of friends was concerning to Hermione, but she'd grown kind of (not really) used to it. At the very least, she dealt with it in a different way – before, she had tried to push herself onto people (Gryffindor after all, right, plus what her mother always said: 'Just go join them, sweetie, they won't tell you to go away… you just need to show them how much fun you are!) but that was fighting a losing battle, so she just tried to ignore it now.

That was really what got her so into books. Of course she'd always had an interest in them and she'd liked learning, but it wasn't _all_ she did. She'd had _some_ semblance of a social life! Of course, she wasn't exactly popular Before Hogwarts either, but she'd had a little circle of friends, and they'd had play dates and sleepovers and Barbies and other such girly things.

But when they realised that she was going to some snobby rich kids selective boarding school, they'd kind of lost contact, and books became a sort of refuge. Her favourite charm was now the undetectable extension charm so she could fit her ever-growing library in a small bag.

But back to the matter at hand - the strange appearance of a Professor – and Professor McGonagall, no less – on the Hogwarts Express.

"Mr Malfoy; Miss Granger. How nice of you to join me," she said, motioning for the to sit down in the wooden chairs that had also appeared out of nowhere. The lady herself was already seated in a distinctly more comfortable looking chair. However comfortable it may have been, she still managed to look sternly austere.

"You already know that you are Head Boy and Girl. What you may _not_ know is why. The two of you being Heads is what I would venture to call an experiment. You might say that this will be a trial period. Albus has assured me that the two of you can treat each other like mature, responsible adults-" and here she looked more than a little dubious, "-to assist the school in getting past its prejudice against people of different financial or blood status." Here she looked grimly at Malfoy. " _I_ am less confident, but I am hoping that the two of you can prove me wrong,." She smiled almost imperceptibly at Hermione, who knew that that kind of stern, slight twitch of the mouth was as close to visible encouragement as McGonagall would ever get.

"The prefects will be here soon and I expect the two of you to behave like the mature and trustworthy adults that Albus thinks – and I _hope_ – that you can be. You are children that must be watched over and I expect you to behave accordingly. I've left you a list of the basic things you'll need to know and cover in this meeting. I trust that you can figure out the rest."

With that, Hermione's last hope of having a civilised discussion walked out the door and disappeared down the train.

Throughout the Professor's speech Malfoy's face had slowly became more and more alarmed as he finally realised what being Head Boy – with Hermione as Head Girl – would actually entail. As soon as she left he slumped down into the chair with his head in his hands. From the depths of his misery – and to Hermione's surprise - he managed to form a sentence.

"You stay away from me, I'll stay away from you," he growled.

Hermione nodded cautiously. Anything was likely to make him angry at her at this point, and as much as she loved their little one-sided arguments, she wasn't in the mood right now to be verbally bashed up. Apparently (so far), Malfoy had enough 'decency' to refrain from actually hitting her, but it was only a matter of time.

The old muggle saying, Hermione mused, that 'sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me' was something that someone who had clearly never had any feelings had thought up. Whoever decided this little piece of wisdom was clearly either not incredibly intelligent, or else just really popular with absolutely everyone.

Malfoy was now groaning loudly enough that she felt she should acknowledge it, but she squished that feeling down abruptly; it would only end in tears. Besides, he would probably tell her eventually.

He was reading the list that Professor McGonagall had left for them and had apparently gotten to a part he particularly despised; with all the others he had just scoffed or groaned quietly. This one he was deigning to let the poor little mudblood hear his despair. Hermione felt honoured.

It turned out that Malfoy had never realised that the Heads shared a common room. Hermione, for one, had never quite understood that part – what if the two didn't get along? Especially since the two heads were usually from different houses, in the interest of fairness. Especially if one was a Slytherin.

The other would either be:

1\. A Gryffindor, in which case the two would argue constantly and it would probably end in:

a) Injury

b) Expulsion

c) Death (not an exaggeration, it had happened once before, in 1942)

2\. A Hufflepuff, in which case the Slytherin would torment the poor person until either:

d) The Hufflepuff got depression/anxiety

e) The Hufflepuff committed suicide from their previous and now worsened case of depression/anxiety (not an exaggeration either, it had happened in 1965).

f) The Slytherin got expelled for

I. Causing the student to commit suicide

II. Torturing the student until he/she got depression/anxiety

g) The Slytherin was murdered by avenging Hufflepuffs because of (I) and (II) or by the original Hufflepuff because he/she was a serial killer (not an exaggeration, it had happened before, in 1913)

3\. A Ravenclaw, in which case the two would have educated, rational and reasonable arguments until:

h) The Ravenclaw had Gryffindor tendencies and injury, expulsion or death occurred.

i) The Ravenclaw had Hufflepuff tendencies and one of (d) (e) (f) or (g) happened, as long as you replaced the word 'Hufflepuff' with 'Ravenclaw'

j) The Ravenclaw had Slytherin tendencies and the Slytherin ended up completely outsmarted and any one of (a) (b) (c) (d) (e) (f) or (g) happened – or something completely different

4\. The only way that any sense of harmony might occur would be in the unlikely even that the two of them:

k) Were friends (near to impossible)

l) Weren't from Slytherin (surprisingly unlikely)

Therefore, Hermione's Conclusion:

They wouldn't be:

i) Alive

ii) Sane

iii) Still at the school

iv) Friends

by the end of the year

Hermione had thought a lot about this and it seemed to her a whole lot of unnecessary cruelty.

But perhaps she was just being cynical.


	3. Chapter Two

**A/N I don't really like this chapter. It's got a whole heap of flashbacks that explain stuff but I'm not sure whether I've explained _everything._ But whatever. **

**Onwards and upwards…**

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief when they had finished the list. Malfoy had gone through the whole thing by himself, and any input from her he ignored. After the first few times of such behaviour she gave up and let him do his thing. If he wanted this to be a one-man show then so be it; it wouldn't be her responsibility when he messed up. She was also having an amusing time thinking up assorted snide comments that fit the conversation at the time.

The prefects were, as a whole, a mature lot, and none of them expressly showed what they thought of her being Head Girl. Of course, they seemed to agree that she had the brains for it, but brains hardly meant popularity. But there was a reason they were prefects, and with the exception of Slytherins, the Ravenclaws was too level-headed and rational, the Hufflepuffs were too damn nice and Gryffindors had too much house pride – and a certain amount of bluster – to let anyone else but Gryffindors insult her.

It was an odd mix but Hermione decided that this year she was going to find at least _one_ person who didn't grimace when she walked in – aside from Luna, who was generally a bit spacey, and McGonagall, who liked her brains and ambition too much to let her occasional annoyance show.

As the prefects filed out she reflected on her years at Hogwarts. Not a thing she enjoyed doing, and certainly something she avoided as much as possible considering the unpleasant memories, but she was suddenly nostalgic – if only for her first Transfiguration class, or her OWL results.

 _She was on the train…Neville was barrelling in with a distraught look on her face… they were looking for his toad… they met Harry and Ron…The four of them got to talking…they realised she was a muggle-born…she was hurrying back to her original compartment, crying at the cruel things they'd said…she thought that they'd liked her…_

 _She was being sorted…the hat was telling her she was loyal, ambitious, clever and brave…there was an agonising wait…GRYFFINDOR!_

 _She saw Professor Snape muttering something…Harry was slipping off his broom…she raced over and set fire to his robes – she SET FIRE to a teacher's ROBES! She was going to get into so much trouble… but at least Harry was safe…_

 _She was talking to Hagrid… he sometimes listened and understood, but more often he was drunk and irritable… but this time he had let something slip, about a dog and someone called Nicolas Flamel… she had set off for the library…bags under her eyes, exhausted, five sleepless nights later, she found it and Harry was able to get the Stone…no thanks to her, of course… but she didn't need thanks, his look of triumph – and Voldemort's defeat – was enough for her…_

Hermione let out a little sob – after making sure she was now alone –as she remembered what had happened to Hagrid in her fourth year... But she didn't want to dwell on that. In some ways, her second year was better than staying alone in the compartment thinking about Hagrid.

 _She was in the Great Hall, looking anxiously about for Harry and Ron… Snape wasn't there either and that worried her…of course, it had turned out to be Quirrell in the end but you could never be too cautious… Suddenly Snape had come back in and was fetching McGonagall and… Professor Dumbledore? The white-haired wizard looked grave, as did McGonagall, but Snape… Professor Snape's expression was a nasty mix of triumph and loathing…_

 _She was exasperated when she realised why they had nearly got expelled, but relieved all the same… they didn't acknowledge her, but that didn't stop the queer feeling of something akin to – responsibility? Whatever it was, and for whatever reason, she felt it and she would just keep on doing what she did best… helping…_

 _There she was, in the greenhouse, explaining primly about Mandrakes… filling in Lockhart's absurd quiz… stuffing the Cornish Pixies back in their cage… at the Quidditch pitch as the Slytherins came on… Malfoy saying "No-one asked your opinion, you filthy little mudblood… filthy little mudblood…mudblood… mudblood… filthy mudblood…_

 _She was at Hagrid's cabin with Harry and Ron… they had, apparently, decided that she was Gryffindor's – and Gryffindor's alone – to taunt…_

 _She was staring at the writing on the wall:_ _THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE…_

 _She started researching… Lockhart quickly gave her access to the Restricted Section when she explained it was for strictly educational purposes… She saw Harry with the diary… it looked incredibly suspicious… She would look into that later…_

 _She was in Myrtle's bathroom, poring over the book… she didn't completely believe that Malfoy was the heir – he was a prat, yes, but it didn't fit… and what about the diary?_

 _Memory charms were a bit advanced for second years, but she was the brightest witch of her age, wasn't she… She was giving Harry the potion… he left to tell Ron about his idea (read: Hermione's idea) and the potion he nicked (read: Hermione brewed) from Snape…_

 _And she certainly wasn't called the brightest witch of her age for nothing – even though that was where she was getting… Malfoy wasn't the heir, she was right about that – but who was?_

 _She was poring over yet another book… the diary… she was so close… it was almost there…_

 _She had the presence of mind to rip out the section she had been reading… she felt awful for doing it, but she had no choice… admittedly, she was counting on them visiting her… rather a small chance… what if they didn't?_

 _Darkness…_

 _And then she was being shaken awake… Harry and Ron receiving points – four hundred total, meaning Gryffindor won the house cup… exams being cancelled (why?)… the rest of the term passing in a blur…_

Hermione smiled wryly. She was rather proud of herself for managing to brew the Polyjuice potion correctly, and also doing the memory charm.

Third year, however, was her least favourite year by far. She didn't have friends in the previous two years, but she did have Harry and Ron's troubles to keep her occupied. That year had been a blank.

The Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Lupin, provided some interest, but he had left at the end of the year. Investigating him and successfully figuring out he was a werewolf a full two terms before the rest of the school was a satisfactory pastime for a short while, but as things continued to _not happen_ (something she knew she should be grateful for) she had no choice but to finish off her transformation into the ultimate teacher's pet.

There was also the… oddness… of Divination and Care of Magical Creatures, but it was an added minor non-excitement she could do without.

Fourth year had been probably simultaneously the best and the worst. Hermione closed her eyes again, giving in to the memories that flooded in.

 _She was reading the_ Daily Prophet _anxiously… it didn't give enough information about what had happened at the Quidditch World Cup… her heart jumped when she realised that Harry and Ron were there… She was a little worried about how quickly this was turning into a bit of obsession… they shouldn't have been such a fixture in her life… it shouldn't be so all-consuming…_

 _However odd this was, she hoped that they would be safe…_

 _She was at Hogwarts, at the start-of-term feast… Professor Dumbledore was telling them about the Triwizard Tournament… she didn't know much about it – something she planned to change…_

 _She was at Defence Against the Dark Arts… Professor Moody was doing the **unforgivables!**_ _He was using_ Crucio _… Neville was white, his hands clenched, his eyes wide… "Stop it!" Hermione shrieked…_

 _The two schools – Beauxbatons and Durmstrang – arrived with a sufficient amount of grandeur…_

 _A whole lot of disproportionate fuss about some Quidditch player… The announcing of the participants… Harry? Here she was thinking that they'd have a quiet year this year… apparently not – though that wasn't necessarily a bad thing… she realised what a morbid though that was…_

 _She was talking to Hagrid, convincing him that there was every reason to warn Harry about the first task, convincing him that he wouldn't want his favourite student to be left for dead… in all honesty she was a little hurt that he agreed as soon as she pulled that card…_

 _She was watching Harry anxiously… she knew that Moody had given him hints, but would it be enough? He had, of course gotten the Hungarian Horntail – he was Harry Potter after all, it would be idiotic to expect he would get Puff the Magic Dragon… she gave him credit for the broom stunt, that was a good move on his part… She saw that arrogant Crummy guy watching him carefully… she didn't know much about Quidditch – much to her chagrin, she wasn't top in **everything** – but she did know that Harry really was very good…_

 _Then the unfortunate accident with Hagrid and the dragons… something called Norbert?..._

 _She was in the library, researching the second task… from what little she knew of it, anyway… it was proving very difficult, not knowing the specifics…_

 _The Durmstrang champion – Viktor Krum – was in the library again… she didn't know what he was doing there but she wished he would stop…_

 _Professor McGonagall was telling them about the Yule ball… why did they have to do this to her… cruelty… she fled to the library but still there was no escape… that Krum boy was there again, staring at her… he had probably heard of her blood status… but then he had walked over and nervously asked her to the ball and it had been the greatest moment of her life…_

 _Then there was the Yule Ball itself… Harry and Ron stared at her in shock, Ron's face red with anger… He was yelling at her… apparently she should have gone with_ him _, not Viktor…_

 _She was standing by the lake uneasily… she had though of a few ideas – none of them very good – but had no time to figure out a way to let Harry know surreptitiously… she breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Neville press something green in Harry's hand… she had no idea how Neville knew about gillyweed but that didn't matter now…_

 _It was the almost time for the third task and Hermione had no idea how Harry had managed to not only survive, but also stay perfectly calm throughout the whole thing…_

 _Harry returned, Cedric slung limply over one arm… what had happened?… and for the rest of the term Hermione focused on revenge on Rita Skeeter, for a time a more satisfying entertainment than helping Harry…_

Hermione still didn't know why Viktor had asked her to the Ball, or why he had kissed her just before he left, or why he had never contacted her again, but she supposed that he had found out that she was a muggle-born.

Fifth year had birthed the Dumbledore's Army, a Hermione Original _,_ but for this she was happy to let Harry take the helm – until he needed her help again. Professor Umbridge had also taken over the school, but she was out before the end of the year, and Professor Dumbledore was back - and for once Hermione did not know how or why.

Sixth year was the year of the Horcrux Hunt and the beginning of the Second Wizarding War. It was then that Hermione had found our through her copious research that Horcruxes were in fact a myth and that they needed something else to defeat Voldemort. Harry and Ron, of course, didn't believe her; despite the fact that the sole reason that they had wanted her with them was for her brains. They had returned to Hogwarts defeated, as Voldemort grew stronger and stronger. Only the urgency of Professor Dumbledore stopped Harry from completely giving up.

Throughout all of this, Hermione researched.

 **A/N Ok… not to sound desperate (even though I am) but reviews make me _very very_ happy. Please – even if it's negative! I love being corrected on things, it means other people don't have to suffer. Thanks to all the people who have favourited/followed! x**


	4. Chapter Three

**A/N So... it's been a while. Sorry. I have a vague plan for this story but major writer's block. Yeah. Also, I decided to just write my own Sorting Hat song.** **Cause why not! (sarcasm.) I think it's awful, but anyways...** _ **Please**_ **tell me what you think about this story.**

 **Onwards and upwards...**

Hermione jolted awake with a start as the train pulled into the station. Students were filing out, lugging their bags with them. She spotted Luna's long blonde hair and hurried to catch up with her.

"Oh, hello, Hermione. Did you have a nice break?"

"It was alright. You?"

"Oh, Daddy and I went to Transylvania."

"Isn't that – oh, never mind," Hermione sighed.

They chose an empty carriage and Luna gave the thestrals an absent-minded pat. The two girls sat in companionable silence for about four seconds before a loud voice rang out, muffled slightly by the large cauldron cake stuffed into his mouth.

"-so I told her that I was sick of her acting like an octopus. She actually started crying!" There was a snort of laughter. Ron had obviously broken up with Lavender - again.

The two boys sprawled themselves into the carriage, languidly waving off first years begging for autographs. Luna smiled vaguely off into the distance, apparently oblivious to the awkward silence settling over the other three. Harry cleared his throat. "So… er…" He trailed off.

They were silent for the rest of the drive.

Hermione sat at her usual spot on the Gryffindor table – at one end with a two seat radius around her. She watched as the new first years trailed in, anxious and huddling. The Sorting Hat burst into song:

 _Oh welcome one and welcome all_

 _To Hogwarts School today_

 _The things you'll learn within this hall_

 _Will help you on your way_

 _I'll sort you in the houses four_

 _I've never yet been wrong!_

 _Since, when a hundred years - or more_

 _Dear Hogwarts first begun_

 _You could belong in Hufflepuff_

 _Where live the just and kind_

 _And loyalty will be enough_

 _Acceptance you will find_

 _It may perhaps be Ravenclaw_

 _Where they most value knowledge_

 _The smartest, with sits love of lore_

 _Your brains they will acknowledge_

 _You may belong in Gryffindor_

 _Where dwell the brave of heart_

 _Bold natures mean they never bore_

 _Of always taking part_

 _Or yet it could be Slytherin_

 _Those shrewd and cunning friends_

 _Ambition means they often win-_

 _Any means to meet the end_

 _So pull me right upon your head_

 _And I will find your kind_

 _Please, don't feel the least bit of dread_

 _As I look through your mind!_

There was a round of applause and the poor first years looked even more terrified than before. Hermione couldn't help herself, and smiled kindly at them. She watched as each child's name was read out and they were placed in a house. Eventually they came to the last child (Zhang, Henry) and Professor Dumbledore stood.

"I know you are all excited and hungry, so I will say only this: To the new students, welcome! To the old students, welcome back!"

There was loud cheering from Ron as hundreds of dishes appeared on the previously sparkling empty plates. All the new students gasped, and Ron chewed.

Hermione served herself some food and ate quietly, observing the conversations around her. Lavender, Parvati and a few other seventh year girls were giggling about something. Ron and Harry were discussing Quidditch – as usual. Many of the first yeas were staring wide-eyed at the ceiling, the ghosts, and the food on the previously empty table.

Hermione sighed. She was losing confidence about her formerly firm decision to make some friends.

Once they had all eaten enough, the plates disappeared and Professor Dumbledore stood again. "Ahem. Just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start of term notices I wish to announce. The first years should note that the Forbidden Forest is strictly prohibited to all students, as is the village of Hogsmeade to all below third year. Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has also asked me to tell you that the list of objects banned inside the castle have this year been extended to comprises some seven hundred and fifty-two items, I believe, and can be viewed in Mr. Filch's office, if anybody would like to check it.

"First years, please follow the prefects to your new dormitories – and could the Head Boy and Girl see me in my office." The Headmaster resumed his seat.

Hermione's heart sank. This was not going to go well.

Hermione sat before Professor Dumbledore's desk, Malfoy on the other side of the room. He had just explained – extensively – how they needed to display cordiality and unity. Hermione was skeptical.

The Professor cleared his throat over Malfoy's dark mutterings. "Professor McGonagall will lead the way to your new rooms. The password is _pacem._ "

"Peace," Draco scoffed under his breath, "what a joke."

Hermione and Draco stood silently before the portrait that was the entrance to their common room. Hermione was irritated. The whole living together situation was ridiculous. She had hoped that maybe the Head Boy might just only partially dislike her. But, of course, it had to be Malfoy. The president of the Hating Hermione club. She didn't think there was such a club but if there were, he'd be the president. She took a deep breath before turning to him, about to speak. He scowled at her and then said, "Pacem."

The painting swung open and revealed a common room that reminded Hermione of Christmas. The fire was roaring and the whole room was green and red.

Malfoy waved his wand and all the red in the room turned silver. Hermione didn't know how he could do nonverbal magic so well - or such advanced magic. She tried to ignore his pettiness, instead taking a closer look around. There was a whole wall devoted to a bookshelf. Hermione sighed contentedly. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad. There were several chairs, tables and two desks. All in all it looked like a smaller version of the Gryffindor common room, just in Slytherin colours.

On the opposite ends of the room were two portraits, one featuring a female, one a male. The Professor had explained that to change the password, all one needed to do was say _permuto_ and then say the new password with one hand on some part of the portrait. For their main entrance they would both have to place a hand on the portrait and say the same password.

Hermione walked quickly over to the red and gold portrait on the right, saying the password that Professor Dumbledore had told her. The portrait swung open revealing a four-poster bed, her trunk and another bookshelf all in red and gold. One of Hermione's frustrations with this school was that everything was segregated – even colours. Everything was always decorated in red and gold. Her favourite colour was actually green, not red, but to say that would be social suicide – probably the only low she had not reached.

She thought back to when she shared a room with Parvati and Lavender. At least now she would have peace and quiet. She was hoping that she and Malfoy wouldn't have to have much to do with each other - an unlikely occurrence but still possible if she tried.

Hermione flopped onto the bed. It was much comfier than her old one, or her bed at home. It was then that she saw a door on the opposite side of her room. She held her breath as she walked slowly over to it. She assumed it was a bathroom, but the question was not whether it was a bathroom, but whether it was _hers_ …

She had heard of nonsense like shared bathrooms and the only thing more ridiculous than letting two horny teenagers share a bathroom would be to let two horny teenagers share a common room. Luckily for Hermione, she was not by nature a particularly… promiscuous girl, and Malfoy seemed to prefer those with large chests and revealing clothes.

Hermione reached over to the doorknob cautiously. She twisted it as gently as she could and warily opened the door. She heaved a sigh of relief when she saw only the basic bathroom amenities. So the rumours had been just that.

She had a quick shower before collapsing back onto her bed, hoping that a good night's sleep would give her some comfort.


End file.
